


One for Anger, One for Love

by TheNarator



Category: The Flash (TV 2014), Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Amnesia, Attempted Parenting, Dimension Travel, F/M, Fix Fic, Fix-It, I needed more of this so I wrote it, Metahumans as Nobility, Prince!Cisco, Sneaky Imprisonment, seriously there aren't enough fics where the Ramons are royalty, that tag pleases me greatly
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-22
Updated: 2018-07-12
Packaged: 2019-05-26 17:45:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15006071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheNarator/pseuds/TheNarator
Summary: After nearly dying to save the world from the Reach, Wally West is pulled from the speedforce by a teenage metahuman and taken to another universe. In this world metahumans rule, serving as the nobility and royalty, and Wally’s savior is the Prince of North America. Wally wants to return to where he came from, but there’s just one problem: he doesn’t remember anything about his past.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> yes i'm starting a new au, and no i haven't forgotten all the wips i still have going on. i'm not abandoning them, i'm just expanding my options for what to write next. please, please comment if you want more of this story, feedback makes me want to write more of this and not something else. this is another one that hedgiwithapen helped me plot out, so be sure to give her a shout after you comment.

Pilar Ramon, Heiress of Santiago the Mighty and Queen of North America, was not having a very good day.

Her eyes swept the collection of highborn speedsters that served as her Queensguard, twelve of the fastest in Central City. They were assembled before her throne, so she was looking down at them from atop the dais, and they cowered under her glare. She was furious with them, not just because they were cowering like peasants, but because they had utterly failed in their sole function. All of them stood with heads bowed awaiting judgement. None of them would meet her eye.

“Where is my son?” she asked, her tone icy.

“Well, he’s not at his lessons,” quavered one out of the three that had been assigned to the youngest prince, a pretty young woman with delicate features named Katarina.

“And he’s not in the training room,” piped up another, a man with high cheekbones and sunken eyes named Jonathan.

“And he’s not in his room,” added the third, a tall, gangly man named Horatio.

“I didn’t ask you where he wasn’t,” Pilar said, narrowing her eyes behind her ornate mask. “I asked you where he was.”

“We, um, don’t know, your Majesty,” said Katarina, her large brown eyes wide and frightened.

“You don’t know?” Pilar ground out. “You have one job in all the world, keep track of my son, and you’re telling me you _don’t know_ where he is?”

“Um, no, your Majesty,” Katarina squeaked, now looking very pale.

“You took an oath,” Pilar reminded her, “to protect my family at the cost of your own life.”

“Yes, your Majesty,” Katarina nodded.

“Then unless you are willing to pay that cost to me in recompense for your _failure_ , I suggest you _find my son!”_

Immediately there was a rush of wind as every speedster in the room scattered. They would search the palace top to bottom, leaving no stone unturned. Then they would expand their search to all of the capital city, running down every street, scouring every alley and rooting through every building. Pilar was sure they’d find nothing. It was too late for that.

“Mother, really?” chastised a gentle voice from off to one side.

Pilar turned, to see her oldest son, Armando, coming up beside her throne. He dipped his head respectfully, and she reached out to cup the uncovered portion of his cheek. Like her he wore an ornate mask to mark his position as a member of the royal family. Pilar noted he had swapped his larger business mask for a half mask of worry.

“Francisco almost undoubtedly slipped through a portal the moment he was out of sight,” Armando continued. “They won’t find him in the palace, he’s not even in this dimension anymore.”

“There’s nothing wrong with putting the fear of Santiago into my guards anyway,” Pilar corrected. “Perhaps next time they won’t allow the future of this country to slip between their fingers.”

Armando gave a tired smile. “Shall I go looking for him then?”

“No,” Pilar shook her head, “bring me the mask he wore yesterday. I’ll see if I can find him.”

Armando summoned another guard, one of the palace guards rather than the Queensguard, and he fetched the required mask. Armando had not as much talent for this as she did, so Pilar gripped the mask and focused on her son. The world went instantly blue, and she found herself looking into the rooms afforded to the royal healer. Crouching on the floor, facing away from her was her youngest son, a figure dressed all in yellow draped across his lap.

Pilar inhaled sharply through her nose as full color came back in a rush. Immediately she was up and off the dais, heading for the healer’s rooms at a brisk walk. She did not run, her long skirt would not allow it, but she moved as quickly as propriety would permit. She wished she had not sent all the Queensguard away; she would have liked at least one to carry her. Armando fell into step a deferential two feet behind her, and she was grateful for his presence. She did not know what she would do if she found Francisco injured.

The royal healer’s rooms were among those made for lesser nobility, in the North Wing of the palace. While not a courtier, the woman was still a metahuman, and deserving of more consideration than an ordinary employee of the royal family. The front room of her suite, normally a sitting room, was converted into a hospital room, with a sickbed and state of the art monitoring equipment on one side and a laboratory station on the other. When Pilar burst into the room she found Francisco kneeling on the floor, a young man with red hair and a strange yellow bodysuit cradled in his arms.

“Help!” he called, “I need the healer!”

“Are you hurt?” Pilar demanded in alarm, hitching up her skirt and running to sit beside her youngest child.

“I’m fine,” Francisco shook off the hand she placed on his arm, his eyes fixed on the red haired man, “it’s him that won’t wake up.”

The healer, a mousy-haired woman with a pinched face and strong arms, poked her head out of the bedroom, then flung open the door and ran across the room to fall to her knees beside the Prince. Armando came to kneel beside his younger brother as Francisco batted her away, redirecting her attention onto the man laying on the floor. He was bleeding from several cuts, his suit torn in several places. The back of the neck looked ragged and torn, like there had been a hood once, but now nothing obscured his face.

“Where did you find him?” he asked, pushing Francisco’s long hair behind his ear.

“The Speedforce,” Francisco replied wonderingly. The healer began to run her hands over the man’s body, light emanating from her palms, and the numerous cuts began to close. “I heard him in there, calling out to me. I had to rescue him.”

“He’s a speedster?” Pilar asked. Speedsters were second only to the royal family in rank. It would have reached her ears if one had gone missing.

“He must be,” Francisco said. Despite his plain mask, one for play rather than one for learning, she could see the worry in his eyes.

The healer sat back on her heels, breathing hard, and the young man opened his eyes blearily.

“What’s your name child?” Pilar asked gently.

“W-Wally,” the speedster stuttered. He opened his mouth to say more, but at that moment his body seized and he began to tremble violently, vibrating at an unnatural speed.

“His powers are unstable,” the healer announced, running glowing hands over him again. “He requires resonance.”

Francisco looked at his mother, eyes wide and pleading. Immediately Pilar moved to sit at the young man’s head. Armando moved to his other side, displacing the healer, and grasped his hand, and Francisco stayed in place to take the man’s other hand. Pilar placed her hands on his shoulders and summoned up her power. Beside her she could feel her sons doing the same. Feeling the unstable frequency of the speedster’s body she adjusted the frequency of her own body to match it, until all four of them were wracked by the same tremors. Then, guiding her youngest as she went, she began to bring her frequency back down to something more manageable. Francisco had never done this before, so he followed her lead, but eventually the three of them brought the speedster down until he could relax his body and stop shivering.

Pilar sagged a little, feeling drained after her exertions. A member of her Queensguard had arrived during the commotion, an older speedster named Jacob, and he took her hand and helped her to her feet. Beside her palace guards were helping her sons to stand. Francisco looked a little dazed, and he wobbled dangerously when he stood, but once he righted himself he looked down at the speedster and healer still on the ground in concern.

“Will he be alright?” he asked the healer.

“He will live,” she said, getting slowly to her feet. She beckoned to one of the guards. “Bring him to the bed, I’ll tend to him.”

“No,” Francisco said as the guard picked up the speedster with ease, “give him a room in the East Wing.”

Pilar gave her son a hard look.

“He’s my guest!” Francisco protested. “I brought him here, I want to decide what happens to him. I’m placing him under my protection!”

“You are hardly in a position to make demands of me, mijo,” Pilar said sharply. “You left this universe, unescorted, and without my permission. Again.”

Francisco stared up at her mournfully, blinking large brown eyes and letting his lower lip tremble.

Pilar sighed. “Do as he says,” she told the guard resignedly. “Then confine him to his room. And activate the power dampener. There will be no more unchecked excursions today.”

Francisco pouted, but only for a moment before Jacob whisked him away back to his own set of rooms.

***

Prince Francisco Ramon did not particularly like to think of himself by the name Francisco. He preferred to be called Cisco, a name that had been given to him by a girl in the first alternate universe he had visited, back when he’d just been learning how to portal between dimensions. Despite the patent refusal of everyone in his home universe to call him by that name, he liked the plainer form of address. It made him seem less formal and more cool. It made him feel like his coolness was unique to him, rather than a function of the family he’d been born into.

That family was currently being an unbearable pain.

“Francisco this needs to stop,” his mother said, pacing agitatedly back and forth in front of his door. He was seated on a plush velvet couch in the front room of his suite, and his brother had taken a chair on the opposite side of the room.

“I don’t see why,” Cisco said grumpily, arms crossed over his chest.

“It’s _dangerous_ to travel between universes without a guard,” his mother said, her furious gaze falling on him as she turned in her pacing. “It’s dangerous to travel between universes _at all_ at your age.”

“I’m old enough to take care of myself!” Cisco protested, uncrossing his arms to slam his hands down on either side of himself. The sound was absorbed by the fabric, unfortunately.

“You’re sixteen,” his brother piped up, also glaring. “That’s nowhere near old enough. And not even _I_ would travel between universes without a guard.”

“You’re only nineteen!” Cisco protested. “That’s not that much older than me.”

“I wouldn’t allow either of you to leave this universe without my permission,” Pilar insisted, “especially not unescorted.”

She stopped pacing, taking off her mask to massage her temples. She would not have done so were she not alone with her sons. Only family were permitted to see royalty in such a state. Cisco had taken off his own mask as soon as the door was shut, but his mother had a tendency to forget that she was wearing one.

“Francisco,” she said pleadingly, “darling, light of my life, why do you insist on frightening me this way?”

“I’m not doing it to frighten you,” Cisco told her, refusing to respond to her guilt trip. “I’m doing it so I can learn.”

“Is that why you’re wearing a mask for playing?” Armando asked skeptically.

Cisco blushed, fingering the black half-mask with golden filigree. “It’s less obstructing,” he said defensively. He would never admit that he usually took it off the moment he’s slipped through a portal.

“What exactly is it obstructing?” his mother wanted to know.

“You’re missing the point!” Cisco pressed. “This is _why_ we’ve been given the power to travel between universes! So we can _use_ it to learn about other places and how they do things!”

“We have this power so we can send invaders back where they belong,” his mother corrected. “You know that as well as I do. We keep this universe safe from threats that come from outside our dimensional borders. That’s why Santiago became the King of Earth. That’s why we lead.”

Cisco sighed and sat back against the sofa. There was no arguing with his mother when she was up on her high horse, talking about their ancestor like he would have been personally disappointed in Cisco’s conduct. It made him feel very keenly the weight of being a Prince, and he disliked the feeling.

“I saved someone’s life today,” he tried instead.

“You brought an unknown speedster into the palace,” Armando argued heatedly. “Then placed him under your protection. In front of witnesses!”

“I wanted witnesses,” Cisco lied. He had not, in truth, thought about the people who were watching. “I went to the trouble of saving him, I don’t want him harmed.”

“And what if he tries to harm us?” Armando demanded.

“What was I supposed to do?” Cisco wanted to know. “Leave him there to die?”

“Enough!” said his mother before Armando could answer. “Francisco, do not speak to your brother like that. You are confined to this room, with the power dampener on, until further notice.”

“That’s not fair!” Cisco yelped.

“It’s fair if I say it’s fair,” his mother said. “I’m the Queen.”

“What about Wally?” Cisco asked desperately.

“He’s still asleep,” his mother reminded him. “We’ll wait until he wakes up, then decide what to do with him.

“Can I see him?” Cisco asked.

His mother narrowed her eyes and put her mask back in place. “ _No._ ”

***

“So,” said Armando Ramon, Heir of Santiago the Mighty and Prince of North America, once he was alone with his mother. _“Wally.”_

“Wally, it would seem,” she replied, leading the way down the hall toward the throne room.

“Any idea where he might have come from?” Armando asked, pushing up his mask to rub at his eyes before letting it fall back in place. It was a risk, out in the open, but there was no one around.

He was under no illusion that his mother wasn’t going to respect Francisco’s declared protection. It was known to everyone who lived in the palace, save perhaps the Queen herself, that Francisco was her little darling. Despite his insatiable wanderlust Pilar Ramon adored her youngest son, and no matter how worried she was Armando knew he would be out of his room and tending to his pet speedster in less than a day.

“He’s not from any of the noble families with superspeed,” his mother shook her head. “He may be a newblood.”

“Or he may not be from this universe at all,” Armando added, somewhat harshly to impress the severity upon his mother. “And he is now under the protection of the youngest Prince of North America. Mother what are we going to _do_ with him?”

Pilar sighed. “One crisis at a time my darling,” she said. “One crisis at a time.”


	2. Chapter 2

Dante Ramon, Heir to Santiago the Mighty and Prince of North America, stepped out of a portal into one of the palace’s training rooms. His older brother, Armando, was standing a few feet away, tapping his foot impatiently on the floor. Despite this Dante took a moment to stretch. It felt good to travel by portal again, after spending weeks traveling by car through the countryside.

He’d been ordered by his mother to investigate reports of strange goings on in certain rural areas of the continent, including some cases of unrest among the humans and even some rumors of untoward fraternization between humans and metahumans. So far he’d found nothing, even while taking the scenic route instead of portaling directly between the mansions of the various backwater Barons he’d been staying with. He was, despite his brother’s obvious impatience, grateful for the break in the monotony.

“What’s gotten into you?” Dante asked as he continued his leisurely stretch in the face of Armando’s continued foot tapping.

“It’s Francisco,” said Armando, apparently deciding he’d had enough of waiting and turning to march briskly down the hallway toward the East Wing.

“What’s he done now?” Dante asked, hurrying to keep up with his older brother.

“He’s found a speedster,” Armando said sourly.

Dante waited, still jogging to keep pace, but this seemed to be all Armando had meant to say. “So?”

“In the speedforce,” Armando continued, without elaborating further.

“So?” Dante repeated, perplexed.

“He’s not from any of the noble families,” Armando said impatiently. “Mother’s never heard of him and there’s no record.”

_ “So?” _ Dante said for a third time.

Armando made a little noise of frustration and stopped short, nearly causing Dante to run into him. He seized his younger brother by the front of his shirt and lead him through a door into a suite of rooms, one of those meant for visiting nobles of higher ranks, like speedsters and mind readers. The front room looked untouched, like no one had been there in some time, but Armando dragged him all the way back to the door of the bedroom. This stood slightly ajar, and Armando peered around it into the room beyond.

Dante copied Armando, and saw a red haired man a little older than Armando lying on the bed, breathing evenly with eyes closed. Sitting beside the bed was Francisco, reading quietly from a book of poetry. They both looked perfectly at peace, as though nothing in the world troubled either of them.

Dante took Armando’s wrist and towed him back out into the front room. “I don’t understand why you’re so upset,” he whispered, keeping his voice low enough that he thought Francisco couldn’t hear him.

“He isn’t from any speedster family here!” Armando hissed. “He isn’t from this universe!”

“He could be a newblood,” Dante pointed out.

“There hasn’t been a speedster newblood in fifty years,” Armando argued.

“So?” Dante shrugged. “We’re overdue for one.”

“We won’t know if he has human family until he wakes up and tells us his full name,” Armando said. “Francisco has barely left that room the last three days.”

“If he hasn’t left that room he hasn’t been universe hopping,” Dante surmised. “Mother must be thrilled. Three days has got to be some kind of record for him.”

“Mother is thrilled,” Armando said distractedly, “but I worry. If he is not from this universe, what are his intentions with our world? With our  _ brother?” _

“Well there’s no point worrying about it until he wakes up,” Dante pointed out. “Until then there’s nothing to be done.”

“Nothing but worry,” Armando corrected bitterly.

Dante opened his mouth to say something comforting when suddenly he was interrupted by a cry of alarm from the bedroom. Both of them sprinted for the door, Armando getting there first and flinging it wide open. The book of poetry had been dropped to the floor, and Francisco was now leaning over the bed. The speedster had opened his eyes.

“Wha-” he asked blearily, blinking rapidly. “What’s all the yelling?”

“Wally!” Francisco cried in excitement, looking nothing short of delighted. “You’re awake!”

“See,” said Dante, when Armando shot him a murderous look, “now we can find out the truth and you can stop worrying.”

“That’s great,” said the speedster, looking between the three brothers as he sat up slowly in bed. “Just, uh, two questions.”

“What?” asked Francisco, tilting his head inquisitively.

“Where am I?” asked the speedster. “And also, who’s Wally?”

***

Only the most powerful metahumans in the capital would have dared to present themselves at court. While it was true that almost every noble family had a house in town, in addition to their estates throughout the country, only those in whom power ran the strongest were fit to attend the royal family. It was by display of their skills that they earned a place beside the Queen, and through the judicious application of that skill that they earned a place on her council.

As a result of all this, the greatest mind reader in all of North America, Lady Angelica Sterling, Countess of Fairbrook, was close to hand when Pilar needed her.

Pilar sat impatiently on her golden throne, Armando at her right hand and Dante and Francisco at her left, with a number of courtiers assembled around the room. Word had spread quickly that Francisco had become fascinated with an injured speedster, one that had been pulled out of the speedforce itself, and now all were eagerly awaiting the Countess’s words. His history had to be explained. A great deal depended on where he had come from.

Pilar glanced at her youngest son, to see his eyes downcast. He had been very worried about his charge when the speedster’s amnesia had been discovered. It had been Francisco that called to have a mind reader examine him, but Pilar who had insisted that it be Angelica. In addition to being the most powerful mind reader in the country, possibly the world, Angelica was a close confidante of Pilar’s. She would do her duty, but she would be cautious where and how she revealed information.

The door to the throne room opened, to reveal Angelica flanked by her two guards. The Countess of Fairbrook was a pretty woman; without a more physical power to tax her body it was a sheltered, delicate thing. Her warm brown skin was smooth, soft and unblemish, and her hair fell in well-tended braids around her face. She approached the throne, and the general murmur of the crowd fell silent.

“He is telling the truth, your Majesty,” Angelica said solemnly. “He does not remember who he is or where he came from. He does not even recall his own name.”

Immediately a dozen whispered conversations came up from the onlookers. Pilar raised a hand, and they all fell silent once more.

“What faculties does he retain?” she asked.

“Language,” Angelica began. “Literacy. Mathematics. The approximate location of the cities of North America. A strangely advanced wealth of scientific knowledge.”

“He has no strong memory of a particular place?” Pilar asked. “No more detailed knowledge of any city?”

“He knows Central City well,” Angelica said, “but he is familiar with several others.”

Pilar frowned. It was almost as rare for humans to travel between cities as it was for metahumans. Why he should be familiar with several cities she’s hadn’t the first idea.

“You were able to ascertain nothing else?” Pilar asked.

“Little else,” was the verbal reply, but Pilar felt the whisper of a psychic connection within her mind. No mind reader, not even the Countess of Fairbrook, would dare open a connection into Pilar’s mind without permission.

_ Tell me what you know, _ Pilar thought at Angelica.

_ The path I took into his mind was well-traveled, _ Angelica told her mentally.  _ Another mind reader had been there before me, and often. _

_ Could this have strengthened his mind against scrutiny? _ Pilar wondered.

_ Unlikely, _ Angelica thought.  _ If anything it would make him more open. _

“Thank you,” Pilar said, ending the mental conversation. There were other mind readers in the court, but Pilar was confident none of them had eavesdropped. None of them would dare.

Angelica curtsied and went to take her place amongst the other courtiers.

“So, he is a newblood then?” came the voice of Lord Aaron Bell, Duke of Ravenswood. He was a tall man, pale skinned and light haired, with a somewhat lined face despite his age. He, like Angelica, was one of the few courtiers that Pilar trusted implicitly, and a member of her council.

“Or he could be from another universe,” said Armando sharply, and Lord Bell dipped his head in respect.

Pilar could well understand Aaron’s eagerness to call Wally a newblood. His wife, Lady Anita Bell, had suffered several miscarriages, and they had been told by the royal healer herself that having children would be dangerous to her health. Pilar had promised him the next speedster newblood that was born, assuming one was born in his lifetime. It had seemed an empty consolation when she’d said it, but Wally represented the chance that he might be able to collect on Pilar’s offer.

“What do you have to say to that?” Pilar asked quietly, turning to Francisco. “It seems he is-”

She trailed off. The space beside Dante was empty. Francisco was gone.

* **

Cisco poked his head into the bedroom of Wally’s suite. The front room was empty, with a guard posted outside, but Wally lay in bed after his interview with the mind reader. He looked exhausted, leaning back against the pillows and looking dazedly out the window.

A knock on the doorframe got Wally’s attention, and Cisco held up the stack of fashionable shirts, pants and jackets that had been setting on a sofa in the front room. Wally looked down at the simple pajamas he’d been changed into while he was asleep, then at the pile of clothes with some trepidation.

“The royal tailor made these for you,” Cisco said, coming up beside the bed and setting them in Wally’s lap. “He took your measurements while you were asleep.”

Wally looked nervously between Cisco and the clothes. “Um, your highness-”

“Cisco, please,” Cisco waved away the formal address, smiling in what he hoped was a comforting manner. He pulled up the chair he’d been using while he read to Wally and sat down.

“Well, um, Cisco,” Wally coughed awkwardly, still looking somewhat uncomfortable. “Not that I don’t really appreciate it, but why is the royal tailor making me clothes?”

“Because I told him to,” Cisco said simply. “You’re under my protection.”

“This seems a little extravagant though,” Wally plucked at the collar of the jacket on top of the pile. Cisco had to admit that the material was high quality, but the embroidery wasn’t so detailed as what he wore. For one thing there wasn’t even any gold thread.

“Not really, since you’re a speedster,” Cisco assured him.

“I assume you’re referring to this?” Wally held up a hand and vibrated it back and forth at superspeed. Cisco was glad his mother wasn’t in the room. She might have interpreted such a use of power as a threat. “But that doesn’t answer my question.”

“Of course it does,” Cisco frowned, confused. “Speedsters are second only to royalty.”

“We are?” Wally blinked, looking equally confused.

“Of course,” Cisco repeated, laughing a little. “Speedsters are powerful; it would only make sense for them to be highest among the nobility.”

“Do all nobles have powers like that?” Wally wanted to know. He seemed genuinely curious, like the idea were foreign to him.

“Only metahumans are fit to lead,” Cisco recited dully, “or so the wisdom goes anyway.”

Wally seemed to consider this. He frowned as though the idea did not sit well with him, but then accepted it with a small nod. “And that’s what I am? A metahuman?”

“That’s what all speedsters are,” Cisco clarified. “There are lots of other types, super strength and mind reading and shapeshifting and elemental control. But speedsters are the second highest.”

“How many of us are there?” Wally asked interestedly. “Speedsters, I mean.”

“Roughly a hundred and fifty in Central City, but most split their time between here and their estates throughout the country,” Cisco explained. “We have an unusually high concentration, what with it being the capital.”

“But none of them are missing,” Wally concluded dejectedly.

Cisco looked down. “I’m sorry we don’t know who you are.”

“If all the speedsters are from noble families then isn’t there a record of them?” Wally asked. “Shouldn’t I be on it?”

“Not necessarily,” Cisco shook his head. “You could be a newblood.”

“What’s a newblood?” Wally asked, confused again. He sounded like he’d never heard the word in his life. 

“Someone from a human family who spontaneously develops powers,” Cisco explained. “They’re not common, but it happens often enough.”

“So I might just be an ordinary person,” Wally said, almost hopefully.

“You might be from an ordinary family,” Cisco shook his head, “but you’re still a speedster, and that means you’re noble. If you’re not from a noble family, you’ll be given to one.”

“Given?” Wally asked apprehensively.

“By the Queen,” Cisco confirmed. “She’ll decide which of the speedster families gets to adopt you. It’s a big honor, to have a newblood in the family.”

“What about my old family?” Wally sounded a little defensive, as though offended on behalf of his potential human family.

“You have to leave them behind,” Cisco said, wondering where he had misstepped.

“What if I don’t want to?” Wally definitely sounded offended now.

“It’s the law,” Cisco said plaintively, ducking his head.

There was silence for a moment, and Cisco looked up to see Wally gazing out the window once more. The fight seemed to have gone out of him, and he looked tired again.

“I’m sorry,” Cisco said quietly. “Not every newblood likes it, but it’s dangerous for humans to try and raise metahumans. It’s for everyone’s safety. Or so the-”

“-wisdom goes,” Wally finished for him. Then he clutched at his own hair. “I just wish I could  _ remember. _ ”

“You know, you might not be a newblood,” Cisco told him, causing Wally to look up at him in interest. “You might be from another dimension. That’s my power, traveling between dimensions.”

“How could I be from another dimension?” Wally wanted to know.

“I found you in the speedforce,” Cisco told him. “It’s the source of a speedster’s power. It exists in a kind of pocket dimension; you can get sucked into it from anywhere in the multiverse.”

“So I could be from anywhere?” Wally surmised.

“Pretty much,” Cisco confirmed. “Without your memory we have no way of knowing.”

Wally considered this for a moment, gaze drifting to the window once more. Then he looked back at Cisco. “Just one more question.”

“Shoot,” Cisco invited.

“Why do you wear a mask?” Wally tilted his head as though looking at Cisco’s mask from a different angle might reveal its purpose. “It’s not like people don’t know who you are.”

“Because I’m a Prince,” Cisco made a face, even though Wally couldn’t see it fully. “It’s supposed to let us only show the emotions we want to show, but I think it’s kinda stupid.”

Wally let out a little exhalation through his nose like he was suppressing a laugh. Cisco smiled, and Wally let his laughter out, laughing as though at something completely ridiculous. His laughter was infectious, and after a moment Cisco found himself laughing as well. For a few moments they laughed together, Wally with head thrown back and Cisco with a hand over his mouth to stifle his giggles. It felt good to laugh like this, and over something as simple as a mask. He realized he hadn’t laughed like this in his home universe in a long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please don't ask me how the landed gentry is organized by power it's a very loose thing in my head.
> 
> also, a note on clothes: i'm leaving this one up to your imagination. if you want to imagine them dressed in modern day clothes you can. if you want to imagine them dressed like they're in a disney fairytale then more power to you. it probably won't come up which it is, so go nuts.
> 
> comments are love by which i mean please love me. and also hedgi.


	3. Chapter 3

“Mother this is lunacy,” Armando insisted, standing before the large oak desk in Pilar’s study. “This cannot be allowed to continue!”

“I have to admit,” said Dante, standing beside his brother, “this is getting a little out of hand.”

Pilar sighed and sat back in her desk chair, massaging her temples. The door to the study was closed and locked, so all three of them were without their masks. Despite the fact that it was not pressing on her eyes Pilar felt a headache blossoming behind her forehead. She was getting tired of talking about this issue.

“We have no way to be sure until his memory returns,” Pilar said, as soothingly as she could manage. “Sessions with a mind reader-”

“Have revealed nothing,” Armando finished for her. “We have nothing.”

Pilar would beg to differ, but she would not say so out loud to her son. Instead she said, “What would you propose we do, then?”

Armando and Dante both halted, looking uncomfortable. Pilar smiled knowingly at the pair of them, and they both looked down, ashamed.

It had been three weeks since Wally had woken up and his amnesia had been discovered. Francisco and Wally had spent nearly all of that time together. While Wally knew about science and geography, he had very little knowledge of history or infrastructure, and he greedily drank up every source that Francisco could provide him on those subjects. Francisco in turn was fascinated by Wally’s ignorance, and had taken Wally’s education upon himself, even going so far as to invited the speedster to lessons with his tutors with him. Wally was happy to attend, and seemed content to be dragged any other place Francisco chose to take him. Much of Francisco’s free time was spent out in the garden, talking about science or reading about the histories of noble houses. They had become nearly inseparable.

None of this sat well with the other two Princes. Armando, who had been wary of Francisco’s instantaneous bond with the speedster from the beginning, grew more and more distracted the closer they became. Wally had been all that was respectful, seemingly desiring Armando’s approval, but nothing he did would appease the oldest Prince. Dante, who was used to enjoying a closer relationship with Francisco, did not appreciated being ousted as his little brother’s favorite person. He had seen Wally as a harmless addition to the palace at first, but the more time Francisco spent with him the less charitable Dante felt towards him.

Pilar felt for her two eldest. They cared about their youngest brother deeply, and they wanted to protect him more than anything. The fact of the matter was, however, that Pilar did not share their feelings. For the last three weeks Francisco had spent every spare moment with Wally, and thanks to Dante and Armando, he had done so within eyeshot of at least two members of the Queensguard. For three glorious weeks there had been no interdimensional excursions, no miraculous disappearances, and Pilar had known where all of her children were at every minute of every day.

It was a miracle. It was a blessing. It was all Wally’s doing.

“Without knowing where he came from our options are limited,” Pilar reminded her two eldest. “If we banish him from this universe we have to send him somewhere, and we have no idea where would be suitable. It hardly seems charitable to nurse him back to health and then send him off into the wilds of the multiverse, away from anything and everything he has come to know here. Would you propose we do such a thing?”

“No, mother,” Armando said quietly, head bowed.

“He cannot be returned to a human family, even if we knew who they were,” she went on, “and even if we treat him as a newblood it will hardly stop the friendship between him and Francisco.”

“It will get him out of the palace,” Dante grumbled. Pilar gave him a sharp look, and he too bowed his head. “But there are many factors to consider.”

“Lord Bell grows impatient,” Armando piped up. “You made him a promise.”

Pilar looked out the one-way glass of her study window, looking down at the garden where Wally and Francisco sat at an ironwork table poring over a book. Wally turned his head and said something to Francisco, and Francisco threw back his head and laughed.

“Yes,” she sighed. “I did.”

***

Cisco had to admit, Wally was coming along.

He had started off with precious little knowledge of anything to do with nobility. He didn’t know the ranks of different powers or the correct form of address or any of the laws surrounding relations between humans and metahumans. He knew what the titles were, at least he assured Cisco he had heard them before, but he didn’t even know in what order they went. If it weren’t for his scientific knowledge, in both technology and the natural world, it would be like he’d never even been to school. Over the past few weeks though Wally had come a long way in understanding his place in the world, and they had progressed from memorizing the hierarchy itself to learning about the histories surrounding each individual house.

On this particular afternoon, once lessons had been finished, Cisco and Wally had gone out to the garden to study for a little while. They had started out with Cisco’s book on the justice system, going over the new material that Cisco had learned over the past week, and then they had moved to a gazebo to get out of the sun. Wally had asked about conflicts between houses in the past, so Cisco had started dredging up from his memory some of the things he’d learned as a child.

“So, if the speedsters of house Lancaster and house York were evenly matched,” Wally began carefully, once Cisco had reached a lull in his story, “how did the conflict end?”

“My great great grandfather, King Fernando Ramon, went to the Battle of Bosworth field,” Cisco recited. Bored, he climbed up onto the back of the bench where he’d been sitting. “He fired a blast over both armies, and all the speedsters lost their powers for a day and a half.”

“You can really do that?” Wally asked, interested. “Take away a speedster’s power?”

“Of course,” Cisco told him, holding his arms out the side as he balanced on the back of the narrow wooden bench. “How else would we settle conflicts between speedsters? That’s one of the most important duties of royalty you know. It’s why we have that power.”

“Then why do you have the power to open portals between dimensions?” Wally wondered.

“ _ I _ think it’s so we can learn from other universes,” Cisco said seriously, tipping too far to one side and having to put his foot on the seat to keep from falling. “ _ Mother _ says it’s so we can get rid of invaders.”

“Does this universe get invaded a lot?” Wally asked. His tone made no judgement on the legitimacy of the statement. It was merely a question.

“Not often,” Cisco conceded, getting both feet up on the back of the bench again, “not yet in my lifetime, but every once and a while. Mother had to repel an invasion, before I was born. Two teams of scouts came, wanting to see if our universe was weak, and she had to send them back.”

“She just let them go?” There was some skepticism in Wally’s tone this time.

“She killed one,” Cisco admitted. “She had to show that we didn’t mess around here. She picked him because he was wearing a mask.”

“Why should that matter?” Wally wanted to know.

“It’s against the law for anyone who’s not royalty to wear a mask,” Cisco said. “Mother says we can’t allow ignorance to be a defence, but I don’t think that’s fair. I’ve never been to any world where that’s a rule before.”

“I believe it,” Wally said, in the tone that Cisco had come to understand meant that Wally had no evidence in his mind to support or refute a claim, and was hence prepared to take Cisco’s word for it.

Cisco took a few tentative steps, then once he was more confident in his balance he risked the short hop between two of the benches around the inside of the gazebo. Wally watched in amusement as Cisco made a quick lap of the room, then when he made it to the entrance archway turned around and came back.

“You’re going to fall you know,” Wally laughed when Cisco wobbled dangerously after a hop between two benches.

“You can catch me,” Cisco said, going a little faster. “How’s it going with the mind readers?”

“Not so good,” Wally admitted with a sigh. “I still don’t remember anything.”

“Nothing?” Cisco prompted, shooting Wally a pitying look before looking back down at his feet.

“Well,” Wally hesitated. “It hasn’t been with the mind reader, but I have been having these dreams.”

“What kind of dreams?” Cisco pressed.

“Dreams about a girl,” Wally said, staring off into space. “She’s blonde, and she’s . . . beautiful. I feel like I know her name, but when I try to remember I come up empty.”

“Something’s better than nothing,” Cisco pointed out. “Maybe you could learn to draw, so we could try to locate her with facial recognition software.”

The top of the gazebo was latticework covered in vines, so while it shielded them from the sun they could still see the sky above fairly well. Wally looked up, though whether he was looking at the vines or the clouds Cisco couldn’t have said. He paused in his precarious walk, following Wally’s gaze. There seemed to be some kind of dark spot in the sky. It was getting bigger.

Before he could blink Cisco suddenly found himself outside the gazebo, in the shadow of a large hedge that separated this area of the garden from the others. Wally’s arms were around his waist, and Wally was breathing hard. Cisco looked up at his friends, to be met with wide, frightened eyes. Cisco was just about to ask what was wrong when a tremendous crash split the air.

Cisco looked over at the gazebo, to see that it had been reduced the kindling by a large round boulder, like the ones that the Knights tossed around to prove their strength.

“Your highness!” cried a voice off to his left, and suddenly Cisco was standing between two of his mother’s Queensguard, whose names he dimly remembered as Katarina and Jonathan. “Are you hurt?” demanded Katarina, both of them checking him over for injuries.

“I’m fine!” Cisco snapped, brushing both of them off. “Wally got me away in time. What was that?”

“There’s training going on in the north field,” Jonathan told him. “One of the Knights must have gotten overzealous. The Queen will have his head.”

“Don’t tell her!” Cisco said quickly, thinking of some poor squire who’d accidentally aimed too high. “I order you not to-”

“Too late,” said his mother’s voice, making Cisco whirl around. Another of the Queensguard was putting her down in the grass not far away. With her larger business mask in the way it was hard to tell, but he could see that her eyes were wide and distressed.

“Mother, I’m fine,” Cisco said hurriedly, even as his mother ran to him and pulled him into her arms, “really. Wally got me out of the way-”

“Yes, he did,” his mother said, straightening to face Wally.

Wally stood straight with shoulders back, like Cisco had taught him when facing royalty. He had hoped that the respectful stance would help with Armando’s obvious distrust, but nothing seemed to have worked on that front. Still, Wally looked the picture of a speedster, facing the Queen with head held high as though prepared for whatever she asked of him.

“You saved my son’s life,” Cisco’s mother told Wally seriously. “We owe you a debt.”

“It’s nothing,” Wally shook his head.

“It’s the life of a Prince,” she corrected. “That is not nothing.”

“Your family’s been so kind to me,” Wally said, looking at her steadily. “I couldn’t have done anything else.”

Cisco’s mother considered this for a moment, then nodded carefully. “I think it best we all go inside.”

“Promise you won’t hurt the squire,” Cisco demanded, even as his mother steered him toward the entrance to the gardens.

“It was a Knight,” said another Queensguard, appearing beside the Queen, “and I’ve taken him to the dungeon.”

“Mother!” Cisco protested.

The Queen looked down at him testily. “I will pass judgement on him later.”

“Please keep in mind that no one was injured,” Cisco pleaded.

“I will take everything into account,” his mother said noncommittally, which Cisco figured was the best he could hope for.

***

Wally stared up at the canopy atop his four poster bed. He knew that the bed was not really his, but when he tried to think of ‘his bed’ nothing came to mind. He couldn’t recall anything, not a king size canopy bed or a mattress on a dirty floor. For now this borrowed bed was the only place he had to return to at the end of the day. It was the only bed that he knew.

There was a terrible strangeness in wanting to remember something and coming up with nothing. It felt like reaching for his speed only to find that it was not there, that he could only move as fast as the rest of the world. He knew there was more there, that he could have more than what he was currently experiencing, but it remained tantalizingly out of his reach. He remembered facts, but he could not remember where he’d learned them. He remembered places, but he did not remember going there, or with whom he had gone. Whenever he reached for the memories there was simply nothing.

A knock at the door brought Wally out of his thoughts. The Queen had decided that Cisco didn’t need to be outside for the rest of the day, and should probably spent some time with his family anway. Prince Armando and Prince Dante had hurried to whisk him off, and the Queen promised to follow after she’d finished some business, leaving Wally alone for the rest of the afternoon. There were a few books he’d been meaning to read, once he had the time to himself, but every time he tried to read them there was a subtle sense of wrongness to them, like he was reading historical fiction. He knew the events had really happened, but they did not feel real.

“Come in,” he called, expecting that Cisco had somehow gotten away from his brothers.

He was surprised however to find the Queen opening his door, and then closing it again behind her, leaving the two of them alone. She stood there, resplendent in her expensive dress of sea-green silk, looking Wally over appraisingly. Wally used his speed to get out of bed, standing up under her scrutiny in the blink of an eye.

“You saved my son’s life today,” she said, without preamble.

“I was happy to do it,” Wally said, mindful that humility was not called for.

“And the two of you have grown quite close,” she said, coming around the edge of the bed to stand only a few feet away from Wally.

“I guess,” Wally said, not daring to disagree, not wanting to make it seem like a big deal.

For a moment the Queen eyed him, as though sizing him up. Wally did his best to withstand the look, wondering what she was thinking. He tried not to speculate on the look in her eyes.

“What do you want out of this life, Wally?” the Queen asked suddenly.

“I don’t know,” Wally said truthfully. “The only thing I can think that I want is my memory back.”

“Supposing you can’t have that,” the Queen speculated. “Do you want money? Power? Position?”

Wally was silent. He didn’t think he particularly wanted any of those things, but then again he didn’t remember ever wanting anything. The only thing he wanted was to have back what he’d lost.

The Queen seemed to take his silence as agreement. “You could have these things,” she said, walking to the window. It was one way glass, Wally had been surprised to learn, so that the palace’s occupants could see out, but the outside world could not see in. “I could give you these things and more.”

“Why?” Wally asked, struggling to work out what was expected of him. “Why would you do that for me?”

“Because my son is very fond of you,” the Queen said, turning back to Wally. Her eyes were narrow and shrewd. “He talks to you. He tells you things.”

“You want me to tell you what he tells me,” Wally realized.

“I don’t know why my son is the way he is,” the Queen said, “and at this point I don’t much care. He will insist on burying his head in other universes and I want it to stop. I want to know when he’s planning to sneak past my guards and I want to know where he’s planning to go once he’s away. You can find out for me.”

The Queen tilted her head, eyes boring into Wally’s. “Will you?”

Wally considered this for a moment. “No,” he said.

The Queen blinked. “No?”

“No,” Wally repeated. “I don’t know what kind of person I was before, but I know what kind of person I want to be. I don’t want to be the kind of person who spies on a friend.”

The Queen looked at him, hard, and Wally swallowed. He felt like a butterfly on a corkboard, pinned beneath her steely gaze. Then, all of the sudden, the Queen did the last thing he expected her to do.

She smiled.

“Wally, who was once human,” she said, with the air of someone reciting something familiar. “You are new made into a metahuman. As such I am giving you to Lord Aaron Bell, Duke of Ravenswood, to raise and care for as his own son.’

“You’re sending me away?” Wally asked, horrified.

“No,” the Queen said, and her tone was gentle. “I’m sending you to be educated. One day, my son will need friends like you at court. It’s better if you’re the heir to a member of my council. It will give you a distinct advantage later in life.”

“Doesn’t Armando choose the council, when he’s King?” Wally asked. “He hates me, he-”

“The line of succession goes by birth order, yes,” the Queen cut him off, “but the stronger the metahuman the more sway they hold. I have seen Francisco’s powers, though they are not yet fully developed. One day he will be the strongest of my sons.”

“So, this isn’t a punishment,” Wally surmised.

“Why would I punish you, Wally Bell?” the Queen asked, a sly glint in her eyes. “I’m growing rather fond of you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> three guesses who wally's been dreaming about. comments are love, for me and for hedgi.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter's a bit longer than previous ones, but don't go getting spoiled, i doubt this will be the start of a trend. special thanks to hedgi for helping me develop the concept and being my sounding board.

Cisco stepped out of the portal beside his mother onto the gravel driveway in front of Ravenswood Manor. As was befitting a Royal visit the entire household staff were assembled on the front steps, and the whole of House Bell waited to greet them. The Duke, Duchess and Wally all stood at the front, with the Duke’s two brothers, their wives and children, and a few cousins with accompanying families standing further back. They all bowed low to Cisco and his mother, and Cisco was pleased to note that Wally’s bow had become just as practiced and refined as those of his new cousins.

“Your Majesty,” Lord Bell said, smiling easily as he came to clasp the Queen’s hand. “Welcome to our home.”

“It’s been too long, my friend,” Cisco’s mother said, giving her own blinding smile in return as Lord Bell bent over her hand and kissed it. Cisco knew that his mother and Lord Bell had been friends for a long time, and his mother liked to visit him away from court and the council. He did not know _why_ his mother should have shown such particular interest in Lord Bell, when to Cisco’s estimation he seemed just like every other speedster at court, but he supposed she had her reasons.

Lord Bell turned away from Cisco’s mother to face Cisco himself. “Your Highness,” he bowed shallowly again, and Cisco inclined his head in acknowledgement. “You haven’t accompanied your mother on a visit in years. I am honored by your presence.”

“I wanted to see how Wally was adjusting,” Cisco explained. It was all a performance; Lord Bell knew perfectly well that Cisco had snuck away from the palace to visit Wally many times over the last three months. He had watched from the windows as Cisco and Wally sat in the garden and talked, and he had been the one to alert the Queensguard to Cisco’s presence so he could be dragged reluctantly back to the palace. He had each time allowed them at least an hour to talk, obviously not wanting to hurt his adopted son’s future prospects, but he still made the call.

“Wally,” Lord Bell beckoned to his son, “why don’t you show Prince Francisco around the gardens? We’ve acquired some new statuary since the last time he was here, I’m sure he’d love to see it.”

“Of course,” Wally said, then smiled warmly at Cisco and held out a hand.

Ravenswood Manor’s gardens had not acquired new statuary since Cisco’s last visit less than a week ago, so Cisco and Wally ended up wandering aimlessly around the rose garden. As always the stiff manners that Wally displayed in front of his father melted away around Cisco, and Cisco found himself grateful to be able to have that effect on Wally. Cisco had met a lot of sons and daughters of his mother’s favorite Lords and Ladies, but he’d never gotten close to any of them. The moment they seemed to be warming to him his mother would take them aside, and then it would be all formality and politeness again. Cisco found it terminally boring.

“I’m surprised your mother let you come, what with how much you’ve been sneaking off lately,” Wally said, giving Cisco a teasing smile as they rounded a corner, now out of view of the manor’s windows.

“She’s used to me wandering off,” Cisco replied. “She’s just glad I’m doing it somewhere the Queensguard can find me these days.”

“I’m sorry Dad’s been calling to tattle on you,” Wally pulled an annoyed face. “He means well, but he’s a little overprotective. He barely wants to train me, he’s so scared I’ll go too fast and end up in the speedforce again.”

“He should be glad you’re faster than him,” Cisco said reproachfully, wondering if he should tell his mother to have words with Lord Bell about neglect of his duty to a newblood child. “Has he been teaching you to vibrate your molecules through solid matter?”

Wally zipped over to a statue of a winged elephant not far off the path they’d been walking. Holding up one hand he began to vibrate it at superspeed, then moved it straight through one of the elephant’s wings.

“Good,” Cisco said decisively as Wally zipped back over to him. “He should be teaching you how to go faster, not limiting you.”

“I don’t think going faster is my issue,” Wally laughed. “I’m already faster than all my cousins, and all the other speedsters Mom and Dad have introduced me to.”

“Have they started throwing girls at you?” Cisco asked pityingly. He remembered when Armando and Dante had each turned eighteen and their mother had promptly begun to bombard them with every eligible speedster girl who had a parent at court. Cisco was not looking forward to turning eighteen for that reason. He liked girls, but he didn’t think he’d ever like Ladies.

“They’re too busy getting me up to speed on etiquette,” Wally said wearily. “I think throwing girls at me has to wait until the party.”

A newblood’s Rebirthday Party was the absolutely height of any social season in which one occurred. It was the formal introduction of a newblood child into high society, a chance for everyone to fawn over the child and envy the lucky new parents. It was also an opportunity to introduce an adult newblood to as many marriage prospects as possible. Newbloods provided new strength to the genetic makeup of the meta class, and marrying one was nearly as high an honor as adopting one. Cisco knew that Wally’s Rebirthday would be second only to Cisco’s first party as an adult in terms of how big an event it would be, and how many eligible metahuman girls would be paraded in front of the guest of honor.

Cisco glanced back toward the manor. They were far enough away, mostly hidden by the rows of rose bushes, that he didn’t think anyone could hear or see them clearly.

“Have you had time to practice drawing?” Cisco asked, keeping his voice down nonetheless.

Wally nodded. After a quick look around he reached into the pocket of his jacket he pulled out a folded piece of paper. He handed it to Cisco, and Cisco unfolded it. It was a drawing, highly detailed and beautifully executed, of a blonde girl with olive skin. Her hair was falling loosely around her face, and she smiled easily up from the page as though perfectly content with the world.

“Is it realistic enough?” Wally asked. “Do you think facial recognition will be able to find her from that?”

“It’s plenty realistic,” Cisco assured him, folding it up again and putting in his own jacket pocket. “If she’s in this universe, we’ll find her.”

“I’m starting to see her when I’m awake too,” Wally said, running a hand through his hair. “I’ll be sitting at the breakfast table, and then just for a second I’ll look up and she’s sitting across from me, smiling at me just like that. I know she’s got something to do with my old life, if I could just _find_ her I’m sure she could help me remember more.”

“I’ll do everything I can,” Cisco promised. “You just prepare yourself for that party.”

***

Ravenswood Manor, as Wally had decided on his second week there, was a very nice place to live. The grounds and surrounding countryside were beautiful, and the house itself was an architectural marvel still standing almost three hundred years after it had been built. It was staffed entirely by people who seemed thrilled to be working there and were extremely concerned that all the residents had everything they needed at any given time. The members of House Bell were all easygoing sorts of people who liked to run all the way to the coast for days at the beach with other speedster friends at a moment’s notice, and all of them were ecstatic to have Wally along. Wally couldn’t have asked for more from his new home.

Except, of course, a memory of his old home.

His new parents, Lord Aaron Bell and Lady Anita Bell, both seemed to adore him. Lady Bell seemed convinced that he hadn’t had enough to eat in literally his entire life, and would call for a snack to be brought out for him every time he so much as crossed a room. Lord Bell was eager to train Wally in the nuances of his powers, even if he was a little skittish of allowing Wally to run too fast. They had both assured him that he needn’t call them Mom and Dad right away, but Wally had progressed to doing so on the third week. Some part of his mind niggled about it, but he couldn’t bring himself to stop after seeing the way they smiled when he said it.

His speed wasn’t the only thing he was being trained in. Wally had quickly discovered that, while Cisco’s lessons in etiquette and infrastructure had seem complex and comprehensive, they were nowhere near as extreme as the ones he was subjected to at the manor. Regular outings with his new cousins and Cisco’s frequent visits notwithstanding, Wally had spent all his time learning manners, estate management, government, law, the finer points of political maneuvering in the royal court and how to ballroom dance. Dancing was by far Wally’s least favorite thing to learn, but at the end of three months he could basically waltz, which was apparently good enough for the party.

Plans for the Rebirthday Party had started nearly two full months before the actual event was to occur. Invitations had to be sent out, rooms had to be cleaned and decorated, additional help had to be hired and food had to be ordered. Lady Bell insisted on new chandeliers being custom designed for each of the three ballrooms, and Lord Bell wanted an enormous picture painted of their family to hang in the front hall. With over a hundred speedsters and representatives from the Royal family to be in attendance, everything had to be perfect.

“Is all this really necessary?” Wally had asked Lady Bell as she supervised one of the new chandeliers being hung.

“Of course my dear,” she’d said, reaching out to touch his hair. She had red hair like him, a few shades darker perhaps, and she liked the similarity between them. “This is the highest honor your father and I will ever hold, and your formal entrance into the world of metahumans. The occasion must be marked appropriately.”

“If you say so,” Wally said, forcing a smile.

Wally hadn’t yet told his new parents about the girl he’d been remembering. He spent what little time he had to himself teaching himself to draw, mostly by internet videos but also out of a few books that Cisco had given him before he’d left. He practiced, trying to bring to life what he saw in his mind, trying to show on paper what his memory was trying to tell him. He wasn’t entirely sure how Lord and Lady Bell would react if they knew, but they were so focused on adjusting him to his new life that he felt bad bringing up his old one.

“I don’t think it’s a bad thing, to want to remember,” Cisco assured Wally, when Wally told him about his concerns on one of their visits.

“They’re just so . . .” Wally struggled for a word, “enthusiastic.”

“They couldn’t have children of their own,” Cisco pointed out. “They’re grateful to have you.”

“I’m grateful to have them,” Wally said. “Really, they’ve been great. But I think I need to know who I was before I can figure out who I am.”

Cisco nodded his understanding.

Wally only managed to get Cisco a drawing he was satisfied with about a week before the party, so he didn’t expect an answer before then. Lessons ground to a halt as everyone, including Wally, was drawn into planning and supervising the work going on. Wally would scarcely have had time to think about his mystery girl, if she hadn’t started appearing while he was awake. He did his best to focus on the tasks at hand, but there was no ignoring her. She demanded to be thought of.

On the day of the Rebirthday Party Wally was awakened by the smells coming from the kitchen. He opened his eye and stared at the canopy over his bed for a moment, wondering how long he had until Carol the upstairs maid would come to wake him up. Deciding that the sun outside his window was low enough in the sky it would be a little while longer, Wally dug under his pillow for his second best drawing. In this one the girl’s hair was pulled into a high ponytail, and she was giving him a sly smile. He felt like there should be something in between them, but he wasn’t sure what it was.

A knock came at his door, and Wally hurriedly shoved the picture under his pillow again. “Come in!” he called, sitting up and swinging his legs over the side of a bed.

“Wally?” asked Lord Bell, opening the door a little and sticking his head in. “You’re up early, I expected to have to wake you.”

“Just waking up,” Wally assured him. “Is something wrong?”

“Nothing at all,” said Lord Bell, coming in and closing the door behind himself. “I just wanted to ask how you were feeling about tonight.”

“Excited,” Wally lied easily. He was, in truth, not very excited to have to dance with however many girls his parents cared to parade in front of him, but he couldn’t exactly say that.

“It’s an exciting occasion,” Lord Bell agreed. He crossed the room and sat down on the bed next to Wally. “Two of the Princes will be in attendance. Prince Francisco is a little young for this, but the Queen insists he wouldn’t be left out.”

“I’m glad he’ll be there,” Wally said, and this time it wasn’t a lie. Cisco was the one person he was looking forward to seeing.

Lord Bell hesitated a moment, frowning to himself. “You know,” he began awkwardly, looking earnestly at Wally, “I’ve read about . . . about what it’s like for newbloods. It’s a difficult transition to make. They miss their old lives, their old families, especially if they get powers when they’re older. The memories of who they were, of who they used to be, haunt them.”

Wally nodded. He understood where this was going. Lord Bell needed to say this, even if Wally did not want to hear it.

“Perhaps your loss of memory is a blessing in disguise,” Lord Bell went on. “It’s an odd thing to be grateful for, but maybe . . . maybe we should be. Maybe this will help you, if this life is all you know.”

“Yeah, Dad,” said Wally, nodding indulgently. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

Lord Bell smiled, reaching out to tuck a piece of Wally’s hair behind his ear. “Good,” he said, “that’s good. Well, better start getting ready.”

“Right,” said Wally, standing up as Lord Bell did the same. “Lots to do.”

The rest of the day was a whirlwind of activity, and then at last night was falling. Cars began to arrive, dropping off various guests, and music filled the ground floor of the manor. Wally had to wait until everyone was there to make a proper entrance, but his parents, aunts, uncles and cousins were all downstairs greeting people. He had tucked one of his drawings into an inside pocket of his fancy evening jacket, and he looked at it as he paced the upper hallways. Eventually though, Lady Bell came and found him.

“It’s time,” she said excitedly, taking his arm and towing him toward the stairs.

When they reached the top of the stairway Wally could see everything laid out in front of him. Three of the twelve long tables of food were in the grand foyer, laid out with everything from meat carving stations to a variety of delicious cakes. Lords and Ladies twirled each other around the dance floor in swirls of colorful silk, but they stopped to look up at him once he was visible. His new family stood at the bottom of the stairs, beaming up at him.

“Presenting, the guest of honor,” called a voice from somewhere Wall couldn’t see, “the first speedster newblood in half a century, Wallace Bell!”

The grand foyer erupted with cheers, and Wally began to walk slowly down the stairs. A number of Ladies were clustered near one of the bannisters, dressed in brightly colored silks and looking up at him with undisguised interest. Wally swallowed and looked back at the rest of the crowd. He wondered what his mystery girl would be wearing if she were here tonight. He pictured her in a dress of forest green silk, with yellow arrow designs around the hem. If he concentrated he could almost see her, smiling up at him from amidst the sea of unfamiliar faces. He kept his eyes on her, and kept walking.

Then came the endless process of greeting and being introduced to people. Flanked by his parents Wally was presented to what must have been over a hundred people, Lords and Ladies of varying ranks and powers. Many of them in turn presented their daughters, anywhere between the ages of 18 and 25. All of these girls simpered and smiled as they offered their hands, batting their eyelashes and giggling when Wally smiled at them. Wally felt as though he should have been preening under the attention, but something was stopping him from enjoying it, just as he couldn’t enjoy it when his cousins’ female friends admired him as he played volleyball on the beach.

None of them were the girl from his dreams. None of them even came close.

Eventually Lady Bell took his hand and guided him over to a blonde girl he was almost sure he’d already been introduced to, although he couldn’t for the life of him remember her name.

“It’s so nice to have you in our home,” said Lady Bell, taking the girl by the arm and drawing her closer to Wally. “Wally, why don’t you ask her to dance?”

As if on cue, which there probably had been, the band began to play a slow, easy waltz.

“May I have this dance?” Wally extended a hand.

Smiling demurely, the girl took it.

“I’m sorry,” Wally said once they were out on the dance floor, “I’ve been introduced to so many people tonight, Miss-”

“Jesse Chambers,” said his dance partner, her smile turning understanding. “I know it’s a lot to take in. I don’t blame you at all.”

“Good,” Wally said, trying to keep his tone light. “I don’t know what I would have done if you had.”

Jesse laughed, the sound light and airy. “My coming out party was last year. I must have met a hundred people, and I’ve spoken to maybe ten of them since then.”

“You must be, what, nineteen then?” Wally guessed, looking into Jesse’s bright blue eyes. Her hair reminded him of his mystery girl, but her eyes were too light.

“Almost,” Jesse replied. “Next month. The way my mother talks you’d think I’ll be a spinster in a month.”

“You know, Prince Armando is here somewhere,” Wally stage whispered to her. “I don’t know the guy myself, but I happen to be a good friend of his little brother, and he might put in a good word for you.”

Jesse laughed again. “Prince Dante attended my coming out party,” she told him, “but I never got the chance to dance with him. If you don’t like me maybe I’ll be shown off to Prince Francisco next.”

“Who said I don’t like you?” Wally asked, and Jesse laughed once again.

Eventually, after dancing with several more girls his mother presented to him, Wally was left to wander on his own. Immediately he gravitated to the food tables, which were straining under the weight of enough food for a small army of speedsters. Roast beef, ham, chicken, duck and lamb were all being carved by temporary staff that had been hired for the occasion. Beside these were steaming plates of side dishes, including stuffing, pasta, vegetables, and every kind of egg. Little quiches sat next to potato croquettes and crab rangoons, and shrimp were piled on the same dishes as oysters, scallops, clams and even lobster. Seventeen different kinds of cakes had been made for the occasion, and there was a chocolate fountain in the second ballroom.

Wally found Cisco by the chocolate fountain.

“Enjoying yourself?” Wally asked, startling the young prince and making him drop his skewered marshmallow into the pool of chocolate at the bottom.

Cisco frowned at his lost marshmallow, then turned to Wally. “Seems like you were, dancing with all those girls.”

“If I hadn’t Mom would have crucified me,” Wally told him. “Any news on, you know, _that thing_?”

Cisco shook his head. “I’m afraid not. She doesn’t seem to be anywhere.”

Wally’s heart sank, but he forced himself to smile sadly and thank Cisco anyway. He honestly didn’t know what he’d been expecting. Some lead on his past? A dramatic reunion? Someone to tell him who he’d been? If she wasn’t at this party then that meant that she was human, and he wouldn’t have been allowed to stay with her anyway. He wasn’t even sure his parents would let him _see_ her, in all honesty. She might as well not even exist.

After being caught and forced to dance with another succession of girls Wally was grateful when the party began to wind down. The guests seemed to take forever to leave, and it was after midnight by the time he was able to plead exhaustion and escape back to his room. He didn’t go straight to bed though. Instead he found himself drawn to his latest drawing of the mystery girl, one in which she stared at him with determined eyes as though he were an opponent she needed to defeat. There was something missing from it, something he couldn’t quite place.

Remembering the green dress he’d envisioned her wearing Wally picked up a green colored pencil. Before he knew what he was doing he had begun to sketch the outline of a partial mask over her face, and then suddenly he was coloring and shading and his mystery girl was now staring up at him from behind a dark green mask being used partially to hold back her hair.

Wally stared at her. Was she a Princess? Was that why he’d been unable to find her? Was she perhaps on another continent? No, the Royal families of the five inhabited continents were all descendants of Santiago the Mighty. No Princess in this universe would have looked like her, and Cisco would have known her by sight if she had.

That left only one conclusion. She wasn’t from this universe at all. And neither was he.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have one more chapter of this planned out (well, i have the entire fic planned out) but one more chapter to go before i start working on other things for a bit. if you really like this story and want to see more of it soon, please comment. i thrive on comments so much. tell me what you think of cisco or wally's characterization. tell me what you want from the rest of the fic. literally just pick a line you liked and follow it with a keysmash.


	5. Chapter 5

“Wally?” came the sound of Lady Bell’s voice, accompanied by a gentle knock at the door.

Wally shoved his latest drawing of his mystery girl into his desk drawer. “Come in,” he called, hurriedly gathering up his colored pencils and dumping them into his pencil case.

Not for nothing though was Lady Bell the daughter of a prominent speedster family. Before he could stow away the pencil case she had nipped into the room and snatched it out of his hands.

“Mom!” Wally whined as she opened the case to have a look inside.

“Art supplies,” she noted, handing it back to him. “What have you been drawing?”

“Nothing,” Wally said guiltily, opening a different drawer to the one where he’d stashed the picture and tossing in the pencil case. “It’s just a hobby.”

“One you’ve acquired since you were pulled from the speedforce,” Lady Bell surmised, lifting up a history book on the corner of his desk to reveal that drawing book underneath it.

Wally sighed. “How long have you known?”

“I’m your mother,” she said, smiling as her eyes twinkled down at him. “I’ve known for quite some time.”

“Then why didn’t you say anything?” Wally asked.

“I figured you would show me when you were ready,” she said, sitting down on the edge of his bed. “Art is something that must be shown voluntarily.”

“Then why so curious about it now?” Wally groused.

Lady Bell pursed her lips. “You’ve been spending more time alone since the party,” she began. “You won’t go out with your friends. You make excuses not to train. We’re worried about you.”

Wally thought that it was a bit of a stretch to call the collection of twenty-something speedsters that made up the younger generation of House Bell and the other noble speedsters they hung out with “his friends,” but he could understand where she was coming from. In the two months since the party he knew he’d been growing more and more withdrawn, retreating into his drawings and his daydreams. He glanced at the desk drawer, wondering if he should tell her about his mystery girl, or about his revelation that he wasn’t from this universe. He didn’t think either piece of information would do anything but distress her though, so he merely turned back to her and smiled wearily.

“Just tired,” he said, not quite untruthfully. “I had so much to learn. Now that lessons have eased off a bit, it’s all just kind of, I don’t know, hitting me.”

Lady Bell gave him an understanding smile. “I know it can be hard for newbloods,” she said gently, “but hiding yourself away is not the answer. I know this world is new to you, and maybe it’s a little scary, but you have to remember we all love you.”

“I know,” Wally said, and he meant it. He knew Lord and Lady Bell did love him, in their own way. They wanted what was best for him, or rather what they  _ thought _ was best. He had thought they might have been right, before the party. Now he wasn’t so sure.

“You seemed like you were having fun at the party, dancing with all those pretty young ladies,” Lady Bell said, giving him a sly look.

“They were pretty,” Wally hedged. “Thank you for introducing me to them.”

“Was there any one that you liked more than the others?” Lady Bell asked.

“Not really,” Wally admitted, fighting not to let his eyes stray to his desk drawer, where the picture of the girl he really wanted to dance with was hidden.

“Well,” Lady Bell sighed, “your father and I thought a little push was in order, so we invited Jesse Chambers over to see you.”

“Mom!” Wally protested. “When?”

“Tomorrow,” she said, getting up and turning toward the door. “Maybe you can show her some of your drawings.”

“They’re kind of private,” Wally argued as Lady Bell opened the door.

Once out in the hallway, she turned and peeked back into the bedroom. “Then maybe you should make some more,” she said, before shutting the door with definitive click.

Wally spent the rest of the afternoon coming up with innocuous things to draw in a new sketchbook and gathering up all his other drawings to hide them in his wardrobe. He wasn’t entirely sure how serious Lady Bell was about wanting him to show Jesse, but he wanted to have something to throw her off if she did ask. He wanted to talk to Cisco, but ever since the party and his realization he wasn’t entirely sure how to act around his only friend. How would Cisco react, knowing that Wally was from another dimension? Would he see Wally differently? Would he be sympathetic to the strange mix of emotions Wally was feeling? Wally had decided it was better not to tell him, at least for the moment.

The following day Wally waited with Lord and Lady Bell as Jesse’s limousine pulled up in front of Ravenswood Manor. Her driver opened the door for her and helped her out, and she gave a shallow curtsy.

“Lady Jesse,” Lord Bell said, bowing slightly as Wally did the same. “How lovely to have you in our home once again.”

“I’m honored to be invited back so soon,” Jesse said, coming forward and accepting the hand Lord Bell held out to her.

Lord Bell pulled Jesse closer to Wally. “Son, why don’t you show her the gardens? I’m sure she’d like to see the roses, while they’re still in bloom.”

“Of course,” Wally agreed, taking Jesse’s hand when Lord Bell passed it to him.

Jesse demurely allowed the action, and followed Wally through the house into the garden. Once they were outside again however, Wally wasn’t sure what to say to her. When he went to the beach with his cousins and their friends there was always an activity to take the attention off conversation. The gardens, on the other hand, were a place meant for conversations.

“So,” said Jesse, apparently taking pity on him. “How many of the people you met at the party have you talked to since then?”

“Just you, I’m afraid,” Wally told her sheepishly.

“I’m honored,” Jesse grinned. “After two months you’d think you’d have called on more of the girls you’d danced with.”

“I’m not really interested in that right now,” Wally confided. “I’m, uh, still sort of in the process of settling in.”

“It’s been five months,” Jesse laughed. “You don’t feel comfortable here yet?”

“No,” Wally shook his head hurriedly, “I’m comfortable, really. It’s just that, well, I haven’t had much time to . . . process. With all the things I’ve had to learn in such a short space of time.”

Jesse considered this, then nodded. “I suppose I can understand that. And I suppose it is a lot to process, what with your amnesia.”

Wally looked down. “You know about that huh?”

“Everyone knows about that,” Jesse said apologetically. “You’re Prince Francisco’s new best friend. News about you is worth its weight in gold.”

“You’re not here to pump me for information are you?” Wally asked playfully.

“I guess I won’t sell your secrets to the gossip rags,” Jesse giggled, “ _ if _ you agree to show me these drawings your mother insists I should see.”

Wally cringed. “They’re not very good,” he tried. “I haven’t even let her see them.”

“I promise I won’t laugh at you,” Jesse said solemnly. “You can trust me.”

Wally smiled nervously and steered them so they were heading back toward the house.

He would rather have left Jesse in the parlor sipping tea while he ran to get his sketchbook from his room, but she insisted on coming with him. She sat on the bed while he rooted through his desk drawers, being sure to throw the occasional excuse over his shoulder about his drawings not being very good. Jesse waited patiently, one ankle tucked behind the other, looking the picture of patience and grace.

“Aha!” Wally cried, pretending to have only just found the sketchbook where he’d carefully stashed it the night before.

“Found it?” Jesse asked eagerly.

“Sorry it took so long,” Wally apologized. “I don’t use it very often.”

Jesse began to flip through the pages, looking at the drawings of flowers, animals and nature scenes he’d done the previous day.

“Wally these are amazing,” she said, pausing on a picture of a rose in bloom he’d spent a little more time on than the others. “Your mother says you’ve never taken your sketchbook outside this room. You didn’t draw these in the garden?”

“No,” Wally shook his head. “I did them from memory.”

He did not mention how good he was getting at drawing from memory.

Jesse handed the sketchbook back to Wally. “You know,” she said slyly, “there are plenty of girls who would love to have an attractive, well-connected, newblood speedster boy do their portrait.”

“Are you one of them?” Wally guessed, smiling despite the weary resignation settling over him.

“Well . . .” Jesse said evasively, giving a coy smile as she leaned back on her hands.

She was sitting near the head of the bed, so as she leaned back one of her hands slid beneath Wally’s pillow. Suddenly her expression changed, going from coquettish to confused. Wally froze. He had gathered up all his pictures of his mystery girl and hidden them,  _ except _ for the one he kept underneath his pillow, the one where he’d drawn her with her mask on. As he watched with heart sinking Jesse’s fingers closed on something and she pulled back her hand, drawing out the picture. She examined it in surprise, then turned it around so Wally could see it.

“Wrong skin tone for a Princess don’t you think?” Jesse asked skeptically.

“Yeah,” Wally said, hurriedly taking the picture from her. “That’s an early one.”

“Seems pretty detailed,” Jesse challenged. She didn’t sound accusatory, but her tone was not light.

Wally sighed. “Ok,” he said, “if I tell you who she is you have to promise not to tell my parents.”

“They worry about you you know,” Jesse told him.

“I know,” Wally replied. “Promise.”

“I promise,” Jesse said, but the sentiment seemed to pass her lips too easily. There was no weight behind it. Wally wasn’t sure he could trust it.

She had promised though, and Wally had made her a deal. “She’s a girl I’ve been . . . remembering.”

“Remembering?” Jesse repeated. “Like, from your old life?”

“Yes,” Wally said. “I don’t know who she is, but I’ve been dreaming about her.”

“She could just be a figment of your imagination,” Jesse suggested.

Wally shook his head. “She feels too real.”

There was a pause. Jesse turned the picture around to look at it again, eyes flicking over the features of the drawing. Wally waited, his mind going over all the ways she might react.

“She’s pretty,” Jesse said at last, and slid the drawing underneath his pillow again. “I can see why you’d want to remember her.”

“That’s it?” Wally asked. “You won’t tell?”

Jesse smiled. “I made you a promise.”

***

Cisco had a bad feeling about the way things were going with Wally.

It wasn’t as bad as it usually was. He’d spent most of his childhood watching his favorite playmates turn sycophantic and flattering after private conversations with his mother, which he found terminally boring and which generally lead to him abandoning them for playmates in other universes. Wally was neither sycophantic nor flattering, and he certainly wasn’t boring. He was, however, painfully withdrawn since the Rebirthday Party and Cisco wasn’t sure what to do for him. It was obvious that not being able to find his mystery girl had depressed him, but there was nothing to be done about that. The best Cisco could do was try to cheer him up.

Also since the Rebirthday Party the Queen and Lord Bell seemed to have worked out some kind of arrangement, because the Queensguard were no longer being summoned to drag Cisco back to the palace after an hour and he was generally allowed to stay as long as he liked. At one point Lady Bell came out of the house feigning surprise at Cisco’s presence and offering to have snacks fixed for them, but Cisco glared at her so hard she never tried it again. Wally scolded him for being mean, but he couldn’t keep the smile off his face as he said it.

On this particular afternoon Cisco found Wally already out in the garden, sitting on a bench with his sketchbook in his lap and his bag of colored pencils on the bench beside him. He seemed to be drawing flowers, which Cisco found a little unusual. He’d never seen Wally draw anything but his mystery girl.

“How’s it going?” he said, more to announce his presence than anything.

Wally looked up, then smiled and set his sketchbook aside. “Alright,” he said lightly. “What about you? Palace getting boring again?”

“The palace is always boring,” Cisco told him, coming to sit on the bench beside him. “What are you drawing?”

“Nothing much,” Wally sighed, leaning back to look at the sky. “Flowers. Flowers are easy to draw.”

“I’m surprised you’re doing it out in the open,” Cisco said. “I thought you didn’t want your parents to know about your drawing.”

“Mom found out,” Wally informed him glumly. “Apparently she’s known for a while.”

Cisco frowned. “Does she know about your mystery girl?”

“No,” Wally said, “I managed to keep that a secret at least.”

There was a moment when neither of them spoke as Cisco wondered if it were possible for Wally to sound even more dejected. He stared into space with an expression of such complete melancholy that Cisco wanted to hug him. He wasn’t sure if Lord Bell was watching from the window however, so he restrained himself.

“I’m sorry we couldn’t find her,” he said at last. “I tried running the facial recognition software again, but no luck. Maybe we could try another picture?”

“I don’t think you’re going to find her,” Wally shook his head, then gave Cisco a sad little smile.

“Why not?” Cisco asked, trying to sound hopeful. “It could just be that-”

“Cisco,” Wally interrupted, still smiling wearily, “she’s not from this universe.’

Cisco stared. “How do you know?”

“Because I drew her with a mask on,” Wally told him. “If she were a Princess you’d know her, or at least know of her. Which means-”

“She’s from another universe,” Cisco realized. “And . . . and so are you!”

“Yeah,” Wally said, turning away again. “So I’m never going to find her, no matter how hard I look.”

“What if I help you?” Cisco demanded, standing up and moving into Wally’s line of sight.

It was Wally’s turn to stare. “Help me how? You’ve already done so much, and it’s not like-”

“Help by taking you to other universes,” Cisco cut him off. “One of your remaining memories is of Central City, right? Lots of other universes have a Central City! I could take you, and you could see if any of them look more familiar than the one here! We could find your home universe, and if we do then we’re bound to find someone who knows you and can take you to that girl!”

“No way,” Wally shook his head, “universe hopping is dangerous. The Queen doesn’t want you going alone-”

“I won’t be alone,” Cisco insisted. “You’ll be with me. And I’ll be using my powers to help one of my subjects, which may I remind you is what these powers are for.”

“I’m hardly one of your subjects if I’m from another universe,” Wally pointed out.

“You’re a citizen now,” Cisco said. “That means you’re one of my subjects, no matter where you came from. Besides, I do this all the time, and nothing bad has ever happened to me.”

Wally bit his lip, thinking. “I guess it would be safer if I went with you,” he said slowly.

“And if you don’t, I’ll just go looking for her myself,” Cisco insisted. “You can’t stop me, but you can come with me.”

Wally hesitated a moment longer, then nodded. “Alright,” he said, standing up. “When should we start?”

“Right now,” Cisco said, taking Wally’s hand and pulling him further into the garden, away from the house.

They left from some ways into the hedge maze, far out of view of the high windows of Ravenswood Manor. Cisco knew that there was only so much time they could spend in the maze before Lord Bell would grow suspicious, but he thought it would be enough time to check a few different universes for something familiar to Wally.

The first two universes they visited were rejected fairly quickly. Both of them had a skyrail winding its way over the city, which Wally said looked wrong to him. They spent some time in the third universe, wandering through the busy streets of Central City in search of something that looked more promising, but after a while it became clear that this version of the city was laid out differently than Wally remembered, so they ducked into a back alley and moved on. Wally seemed excited by the fourth universe, which was laid out correctly and had no glaringly unfamiliar landmarks, but still nothing was jumping out at him, and eventually some kind of battle broke out in the middle of the street between a number of seemingly human police officers and a man with a gun that shot jets of fire.

“It could be your universe though!” Cisco protested as Wally ushered him into a nearby alley.

“It’s too dangerous for you,” Wally insisted. “We’ll try one more, then go home.”

In the fifth universe they came out on a grassy hill overlooking the city. Cisco waited as Wally squinted at the collection of buildings, their lights beginning to come on as twilight settled over the world.

At last Wally sighed. “We should head back,” he said, turning to Cisco.

“You don’t want you have a look around?” Cisco asked.

“It’s not jumping out at me,” Wally said, “and if we stay out much longer it’s going to get dark back home.”

“We could say we got lost in the maze,” Cisco offered.

“Two metahumans defeated by a hedge maze?” Wally raised an eyebrow.

“I guess,” Cisco replied, and opened a portal back to Ravenswood Manor. “But we can come back and check it again in a few days if you want.”

“Maybe,” said Wally noncommittally, and ushered Cisco through the portal.

***

Sometimes, Barry reflected, a man just needed to feel the wind in his hair.

The flash costume did not allow for this, but it was a soothing experience that Barry had come to appreciate in the last six months, and thankfully going at roughly 600 miles and hour there was very little risk of anyone seeing him clearly without his mask. He ran in his suit, the mask part pulled down to flap in the breeze, ready to stop indulging himself if the city needed him. He told himself that doing laps of the outskirts of the city was kind of like patrolling. He was striking fear into the hearts of criminals just by making his presence known. He wasn’t  _ just _ doing something comforting to soothe his own grief.

The kid flash suit allowed for the wind in the hair experience, but that was not how Bart grieved. Going at superspeed was not where he felt Wally, not how he connected to his cousin’s memory. Instead he did his best to keep up with Artemis, and spent a significant amount of time in front of the monument in the Watchtower, talking quietly with Jaime or Kaldur or anyone else who cared to sit with him. Barry knew he still felt like a fraud wearing Wally’s suit. Even after six months, he felt himself unworthy of it.

It was on one of these soothing, grieving runs that Barry saw the blue light. He stopped, backtracked, and stared at the swirling blue  _ thing _ that glowed and pulsed gently at the top of a grassy hill. Standing in front of it were two figures, but they were too far away to make out. Slowly, without using his speed, Barry crept closer until he could see them more clearly. One of the figures was shorter, with tanner skin and long dark hair. The other was taller and paler, with a shock of red hair. If he squinted he could almost make out their features.

Barry stopped, frozen in place. It couldn’t be. It couldn’t be, but it was. Standing at the top of the hill, not twenty yards away, was Wally. He was saying something to the shorter figure, taking his arm and turning him towards the swirling blue light. Then they were stepping through it, and vanishing from sight.

“Wally!” Barry cried, his stopped heart kicking into high gear. That had obviously been a portal of some kind, and Wally had gone through it. He had to get to it. He had to get to Wally.

Immediately Barry stumbled forward, his speed activating without conscious thought. His long legs and superspeed ate up the ground between himself and the portal, but it was already beginning to shrink in size. He held out a hand, trying to grasp it, trying to get some part of himself through, but his fingers closed on nothing. Just where he had reached the spot where it had been, it vanished.

“No!” he howled, looking frantically around for some sign of the portal, of something that had been left behind to prove that it had been there.

Wally had been there. Barry had seen him. Wally was alive. Somehow, somewhere, he was alive and well. Barry didn’t know how it was possible but clearly it  _ was _ possible. Wally was alive.

And Barry was going to find him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please comment i'm beg-
> 
> ahem, i'm going to be taking a break from this fic for a while to write some more of my kidfic. comment to motivate me to come back to this fic quicker. and don't forget to thank hedgi.


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